Exploring Mt. Everest in slippers.

Weeks like this one, I can understand why it's a curse.  This blog isn't particularly cohesive, more a collection of random things I've observed or felt during the week. I moved into my new place, and thanks to my sister, got it done in two car-loads.  I was completely unpacked by the next day, and was settling in to my new little nest.  I had to book an appointment with the welfare office, and try to cover my grocery bill for the first week.  It was within walking distance, I was 'good', and walked instead of finding a bus route that would get me there.  I had to then do my first shop, and even though it IS on a convenient train route, a weeks groceries are difficult to carry by yourself.  And I made a new friend, who's gone through some similar experiences to me, and was finding their way in a new city.  Between the physical exertion of moving house, visiting the welfare office, grocery shopping, and doing some touristy things; I'm sleeping pret...

Tomorrow I move into a boarding house.  The finances are squeaky tight, and the view won't be as fabulous; but it's a forward step.  A step I've made on my own.  A step that will hopefully lead me somewhere new.  It's all happened very quickly, and I'm exhausted.  Moving home is difficult even when my brain is working fine - doing it wading through molasses is insanity. This week has been an exercise in persistence.  I've packed in small bursts.  A single drawer here, a shelf there, updating lists steadily; and I've done it.  I've even packed the first load into the car.  This is where my brain actually gives me an advantage.  Overthinking everything, means I'd mentally found and packed everything - before I physically started.  A holiday weekend gave me time to virtually pack the car a few times, to get the most squeezed in and reduce the trips to two (I hope) - without lifting a finger.  I've mentally unloaded and unpacked se...

Pathway: " a path, course, route, or way (n) "   I made one.  Last week was brutal.  The aftermath of a fraught funeral meant I spent most of the week in bed.  The exhaustion, numbness, heaviness, lethargy, and feelings of utter worthlessness; they'd all returned in full force.  I felt I was back at 'the beginning' of my Everest journey; but here's a neat trick; turns out, I didn't have to struggle as hard to find a way forward this time.  There was a 'path'.  I knew there was  a way out, I'd been there before.  This time I knew I could  get out, and that I would  improve.  It was terrifying how completely I'd fallen down; as though into a tar pit, fighting the thick, sticky, heavy, weight of it - just to move.  For five days, I barely got out of bed, barely ate, didn't shower, didn't get dressed, couldn't think, and could barely talk.  Day six, I found the beginning of the path; and it's tricky to describe...

It's been a tough couple of weeks.  A man I've known for over thirty years, a musician, a comedian, a friend, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a great-grandfather; took his final breath - leaving my dearest friend and her family grieving a foundation piece of their hearts.  On hearing the news, I packed a bag, and made my way to them.  No other reaction possible.  They needed support.  I listened to their stories, added to their tears, and said farewell to a man who defied death on many occasions.  He fought so many times over the years, that in my mind, he was 'The Incredible Living Man'.  Doctors, specialists, and surgeons; all had told him he wouldn't make it - but  he kept on making it .  He refused to let go, to lie down, to give in.  During the ceremony, while his family wept, 'that' poem by Dylan Thomas was reverberating in my brain: Where did he find the strength to fight, to rage, so valiantly?  What was he fig...

Some of the greatest thinkers we know of; Plato, Aristotle, Socrates - pondered the nature of existence.  Who are we?  What is our purpose?  Why do we exist?  Over the centuries, other great thinkers have discovered more ways to ask the same questions.  Other than Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy answer of '42', the answer remains the same. We  Don't  Know. Are we random collections of molecules?  The creation of an omnipotent God?  A genetic mutation of a space going species?  Did we evolve through millennia due to superior intelligence?  On a personal level, my fight against Depression has revolved around the question: Who am I?  I'm no closer to knowing myself, than a cat is to recognizing it's own reflection. There's the 'me' that my family sees, the 'me' my children see, the 'me' casual acquaintances see, the 'me' co-workers see, the 'me' that is seen online, the 'me' that friends see, ...

Driving a manual/stick shift in rush hour traffic is an exercise in frustration.  You know how it goes.  1st gear, 2nd gear, 1st gear, 2nd gear, 1st gear, 2nd gear, ooh 3rd gear! bugger.  2nd gear, 1st gear, 2nd gear, and so on.  Knowing eventually you'll be able to stay in 3rd, get to 4th, and be back up to open road speeds as soon as the traffic eases.  In older cars, there's the additional stress of possible overheating; hearing the fan kick in, watching the temperature gauge, and hoping for a clear spot to gain some speed ahead. When you're in traffic, everyone else is dealing with the same situation.  While their automatic gearboxes, and more efficient cooling systems makes the experience less stressful, everyone knows we're all just waiting for the congestion to ease.  This week, my Depression has me stuck in 1st and 2nd gear.  Others are having to move around me, any 'car troubles' they're having, not seeming to slow them down.  Y...

There's a thing that gets glossed over when anti-depressants are prescribed.  It's mentioned of course, but it's so far down the list of priorities to straighten out (you know, like wanting to stay alive ), it doesn't concern anyone. One of the most prevalent side effects of anti-depressant medications; is loss of libido. When I was fighting suicidal ideation, and struggling to get out of bed at all; this was 'no-big-deal'.  Barely even noteworthy. I seem to have moved past that stage, and now I wonder how much the lack of sex drive impacts a lack of any kind of drive at all.  Would an urge to meet someone, overcome my need to stay in?  Would the need to attract someone, provoke me to brush my hair?  I honestly don't know.  (Please note, no amount of make up would make me look like Charlize Theron). I'm only thinking about it now, because it was pointed out to me that I've been single for well over a year now, and there's nothing to...